True Heart's Mate
by The Lonely Executioner
Summary: GE Samhain Challenge inspired... When Hermione is invited to Ron's wedding, Harry issues a counter-invite... To Luna's Samhain 'Girls Night Out.' That's when things went just a little bit odd.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I took the idea for this from the excellent works submitted previously to Granger Enchanted's Samhain Challenge and, while I do not think I qualify for the challenge, I would present this in hopes that the challenge is opened again for 2014…

P.S.: Don't ask me why, but I _despise_ Molly Weasley…. She just sets off my temper… This story will reflect that.

**Disclaimer:** I make no money from this and I live in North America…. I'm a business student… Yup, not J.K. Rowling…. Dammit!

**Chapter One:**

Hermione Granger was one brassed off witch. She had been almost constantly for the past two and a half years... Ever since that _witch-_ and she wasn't referring to the ability to do magic- convinced Ron that he deserved 'better' than some no-family Muggle-born who...

She took a deep breath to try and stop the hurtful words from washing over her... It didn't work. She could still hear the conversation...

"_Ron, see sense! This is your chance! To do something that none of your brothers did!" she heard Molly whisper furiously._

"_Hermione's star is on the rise, Mum. She'll be Mrs. Ronald Weasley. I was hoping to ask her next week."_

_Hermione wrinkled her nose at how poorly Ron knew her. She would be Ms. Hermione Granger-Weasley, if anything._

"_And you could be Consort Greengrass, married to an heiress! Hermione has no family magics to bring us! No vaults! No worth!"_

_Hermione drew back. '_No worth?'_ She had plenty of worth! How dare Molly-_

"_Do you think Hermione will let you use 'her' money to buy brooms and play Quidditch? No, she'll insist on investing it, having 'rainy day' funds... Your father and I raised you and your siblings without all of the fancy paperwork she's talking about for when she marries. Prenuptial agreements, custodial arrangements in case of divorce, and separate vaults! What nonsense is this? A witch gives her husband all of her worldly goods and that's what Astoria Greengrass is prepared to do!"_

"_And she would agree to me playing Quidditch?"_

"_Of course!" Molly soothed. "Her place is, naturally, in the home, and your's in the world."_

Still, she had done the mature thing and not questioned the break-up (not five minutes later and through the door of the loo, for Merlin's sake!) or his use of the line: 'I think we should see other people.' She was cordial to Molly, who acted surprised at her sudden desire to depart. She hugged Arthur and explained that she didn't feel comfortable coming to Sunday dinners anymore because of whispers she had heard about her not having worth due to her lack of family magics. He, naturally, denied any such sentiment and she, carefully, directed him to look at those closest to him.

It was almost satisfying to see Molly stroll through Diagon Alley, magically geased to say nothing to or about Hermione. Of course, now that her favourite whipping girl was unavailable... Molly's malicious gaze had turned to Fleur, aliased Phlegm. Hermione regretted participating in the teasing of Fleur prior to her Sixth Year and aided the French witch and Bill in drawing up papers to prevent Molly from seeing their children due to her 'foreseeable negative influence and impact' on said children.

_Hermione: 2, Molly: 0_

Now, adding insult to injury, was today's post.

_Cyrus and Honoria Greengrass_

_and_

_Arthur and Mary Weasley_

_request the pleasure of your presence_

_at the marriage of their children_

_Astoria Marie Greengrass_

_to_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley, Order of Merlin, First Class_

It was the scrawled note on the bottom of the invite that really put salt in the wound of their clean, no-nonsense breakup... _Please come, 'Mione._ Attached was a Lady's Seal flower... She didn't need to look up the meaning.

_Be my support,_ he asked... He dared? After what he had _done?!_

She leaned back in her chair, eyes closing, even as the portrait in her office looked at her with concern. She was rather fond of the portrait and this one was the only one that spoke French. She understood English, but said that the language lacked the subtle variances French offered...

"_Hermione, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas? Est-ce une affaire?"_

"_Non, madame duchesse. C'est une invitation au mariage de mon ex-amant. Celui qui a rompu parce que sas mère s'est opposée à mon manque de Magics de Famille... _He is marrying this Yule and, as you know, it's less than a week to Samhain._"_

The duchess' response was absolutely timeless.

"_Quel salaud!"_

Hermione laughed. She could believe that the dignified duchess was truly insulted on her behalf. The portrait _(La Duchesse D'Avignon, Marie, Fille de Louis XIV)_ was a delight amongst the stuffiness of her Ministry office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Prosecution Sub-Department.

"_Vous devriez faire vox propres Magics de Famille... Quelque chose de lui faire pâlir d'envie __!"_ Marie mused quietly as Hermione's attention faded.

_Ceremony Details:_

_Location: The Ministry of Magic, Grand Atrium_

_Date: Yule_

_Time: Sundown_

_Please R.S.V.P. no later than 5 November regarding your attendance and if you will have a guest. Dress is winter formal._

The war, despite its brutality and the seeming incompatible nature of Old Magic/Pureblood ways and New Magic, had brought the wizarding world together in an unforeseeable fashion. It was not uncommon to see the Lords of the Wizengamot playing with their mobiles or a Muggle-born speaking in front of that august body. (Of course, there were now elected politicians and term limits for those individuals in order for them to represent the interests of First Generation Mages, individuals and groups previously classified as 'creatures,' and other formerly downtrodden, discriminated-against groups.)

In return, the ways of Old Magic were taught in Hogwarts and all First Generation Mages were required to attend classes on Classical Wizarding Etiquette, which, naturally, included lessons on the languages of flowers. Hermione had, alongside Daphne Greengrass, Susannah Bones, and Fleur Weasley, designed the course with input from various matrons of Pureblood Society like Augusta Longbottom, Narcissa Malfoy, and Cecilia Diggory. In many ways, it was not dissimilar to the kind of formal behaviour seen in the Regency-era _ton_ or if one were to be presented to the Queen.

That had been one of the requirements of the New Magic party. The wizarding world had to be brought into governmental compliance with the Ministries of the Queen and submit to being a part of the Home Office. That meant no more Imperiusing, Confunding or otherwise befuddling Mundane politicians and the discarding of terms like Muggle, Muggle-born, Mudblood, blood-traitor, Muggle-lover... The Prime Minister was, nominally, the head of the Magical population, serving at the pleasure of the Queen and Her Government, under advisement by the Minister of Magic.

It wasn't a perfect world, but it was a damned sight better than what she had come into. She was proud to say that she had helped equality gain a foothold in the wizarding world.

"Miss Granger, ma'am?"

"Yes, Daisy?"

"Lord Potter is on the Floo, wondering if you've time for him to come through?"

Hermione smiled. "Tell Harry to come on through, Daisy."

"I don't know how you stand it, ma'am. He's ever so handsome!"

"Go on and let him through, Daisy. Thank you."

The rather simple woman tittered as she walked away and Hermione foresaw the sacking of another seemingly-capable secretary because she couldn't cope with being in regular contact with Harry. "Just when I got her almost trained, too..." she bemoaned quietly.

There was a timid knocking on her office door and Harry peeked his head in. "Need a cuppa while I'm out here?"

"Just come on in, Harry," she sighed, shaking her head. "I take it you've heard about the Greengrass wedding?"

"Er... well, yes and no..."

Shrewdly, Hermione looked at her oldest friend. "When did you hear about it?"

Harry looked at the floor... "Five months ago."

"And I'm receiving an invitation to a wedding taking place in a little over two months today why?"

Harry's discomfort was obvious and obviously growing. "Astoria and Molly wanted to make sure that you couldn't find a date. Ron's been acting rather off about the whole wedding thing and Molly thinks that if you show up 'stag' as it were, it'll make him realize that Astoria's the better option. Something about him being the only one to ever want you and... Oh, shit... Is that a Lady's Seal?"

Hermione's eyes welled at the apparent truth of that statement. Ron had always been there and now he was marrying some Proper Pureblood Princess that had Family Magics and was willing to be the perfect little high-society house witch... She sniffled and turned to look out the magical window currently portraying the Tuscan countryside. Then, her legal mind took over, easing her from the emotions and into calm.

"It's too late for him to pull out... At least not without severe financial consequences, given the legal genius of Dewey, Fhucem, and Howe. I've been trying to get an interview with their HR department for six months! And I'll be sending him a yellow carnation just as soon as I can get to a florist."

"Trying to get out of prosecution, Hermione?"

"Hardly. I'd like to get the silk."

Harry sat up straight. "You want to go for silk? I wonder what... er... Luna, yeah, Luna would think of that."

Hermione gave Harry credit for trying. She knew that he had been about to wonder what Ron would think of it, but swiftly changed it to his paramour, Luna. The ebony-haired boy (he'd never be a man in her eyes. It was like having a baby brother in the fact that she didn't see him as grown.) tried ever so hard. She smiled at him.

"The Ministry won't support my desire for silk, so I have to go to chambers that would permit the application. The Ministry says that its legal offices operate outside Her Majesty's realm of influence and my seeking silk would be further subjecting them to 'persecution' from the Mundane government.

"Muggle-hunting was persecution. The Queen forcing the government back into compliance with the treaty is not 'persecution.'"

"Any way you can put things off until the New Year?"

Hermione considered it. "Why?"

"Luna's having a bunch of the old DA over for a Samhain celebration and the women are doing something-another and I thought you might like to join in?"

Hermione activated her Occlumency to recall her last conversation with Luna and remembered that the spacey blonde had mentioned some sort of Samhain Divination that was alleged to reveal one's true heart's mate. Not that Hermione believed in that sort of nonsense, but she desperately needed to meet someone to take to the dratted wedding...

There was no way she _couldn't_ go, especially if that's what Molly and Astoria were hoping for... And Ron _had_ asked for her...

And if anyone needed their 'true heart's mate,' it was Hermione Jean Granger...


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Yes, I took high school French, but that was almost ten years ago…. So, thank Google Translate and yell at it if my French is in error… I did do my best, running the sentences through another online translator prior to publishing…

Also, I'm really surprised no one commented on the name of the Wizarding World's premier lawyers…. Really? No one got the joke? *sniffle, sniffle*

Regarding questions raised by a Guest reviewer…. Lady's Seal means 'Be my support,' 'Molly' is a common nickname for 'Mary,' I haven't quite figured out what happened with Daphne Greengrass, and Draco is with Susan Bones. Boom!

Otherwise, thank you to loves2readalways, Beyondthesea16, Chupeechan, and Angel girl5 for being registered FF.N reviewers.

I will try my utmost to update on Mondays and Fridays, depending on my school schedule, the load of homework, and the temperament of my children and husband. Some weeks I get a hour to write, some weeks I get five hours to write. _C'est la vie._

**Chapter Two-**

**Merlin bless** Luna Lovegood... Despite Hermione's reasonable scepticism, the petite blonde insisted that if she were going to participate, the brunette would treat it as a true ritual and purify herself in order to be more open to the will of the Fates...

Of course, Luna's idea of 'purification' involved the use of a very expensive gift certificate to Lavender's Little Luxuries, a spa owned by Lavender Brown... Ironically, the demi-were was still as carefree and casual about her affections as she had been in Sixth Year... Bitterly, Hermione wondered what would happen if the little bitch bit one of her numerous lovers. Luna was quick to chastise her for the 'uncharitable' thought.

Luna, Hermione, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot were all reclined on the massage tables, the other three murmuring softly while Hermione's mind raced...

For the sake of the argument, what if this divination was real? What if she was about to embark on something that would change her life forever?

Cautiously, Hermione ran through the names of every male she had ever known. Harry?

_No. Too much of a brother. Not to mention that while Luna probably wouldn't have a problem sharing, I would..._

Ron?

_Currently hate his bleeding guts and think they should be used to make strings for violins..._

Draco Malfoy?

_Ew. Too blond... And I think that's why Susan is here tonight... Didn't I hear they were a couple a few months back?_

Neville?

She chuckled at the thought of trying to kiss the shy, mousy brunet. While not quite like kissing a brother, kissing Neville Longbottom would just be _wrong_... like seducing a nun in a church wrong...

Terry Boot? The conversation around her provided intelligence that he was currently ensconced on the Continent with Blaise Zabini and the rake Carlisle Dewey of Dewey, Fhucem, and Howe... Momentarily confused by how _that_ idea would work, the blush on her face when she figured it out was enough to raise the temperature in the room by five degrees, much to her friends' amusement.

Conversation ebbed and flowed while some soothing music was piped in from somewhere... Hermione recognized a few Muggle masterpieces in the mix, but couldn't pay enough attention to identify which masterpiece by which master.

Massages were followed by purifying baths. Her own was scented with witch hazel, aloe, yellow jasmine, lemon blossom, lily, rosemary, mint, azalea, chamomile, cornflower, and dragon's blood. It was a complex and not necessarily complimentary scent, but Luna swore this was how women within her family had chosen spouses for generations, if not centuries. Given that there were no broken bonds, divorces, or spousal homicides in Luna's family, this 'ritual' of hers was gaining Hermione's approval.

_After a purifying bath, collect the waters that cleansed the maiden to fill the cauldron on Samhain. The bathing waters of the maiden should be scented with flowers and herbs complimentary to the personality of the maiden._

_As the hour of Nones approaches, fill a cauldron with the reserved bathwater of the maiden by a lake. Prior to entering the cauldron, the maiden should toss a posy of flowers into the cauldron that describes her according to her friends._

_Then, a wreath created by the hands of the maiden, but not her magick, should be added and carefully allowed to settle into the fire by the cauldron so it's sweet scent washes over her as she bathes in the ritual waters._

_Finally, add a sachet crafted by the witch's hands, but not her magicks, that describes her ideal intended._

_Then, allow the maiden to bathe again in the waters and slumber until she Dreams._

Simple enough, really, if one believed in that sort of thing... And could ignore the mistakes of medieval English...

She had already collected flowers for Luna, Susan, and Hannah. There were fourteen for Luna and Susan; however, she didn't know Hannah as well, so she only planned seven for the witch. All three witches received white heather and fern for protection, sincerity, and magic...

She selected baby's breath for innocence and purity of heart, begonia for Luna's fanciful nature, compass flower for her faith, coreopsios for her cheerfulness, cornflower for her delicacy, delphinium for her big-heart and her sense of fun, freesia for her sense of trust, lauristinus because she was cheerful in the face of adversity, Love In A Mist because it meant 'You puzzle me.', lupine for her imagination, mugwort for tranquillity and happiness, and morning glory for affection. It was a complicated and odd bouquet for the petite blonde, but Hermione thought she had pinned her friend down.

Susan was something else, even if they did marginally work together. Susan was following her aunt's path down the DMLE track and was an Assistant Departmental Head already. Black-Eyed Susan for justice, a cat-tail for peace and prosperity, a dahlia for dignity, yellow jasmine for modesty, a red daisy for beauty unknown to the possessor, mugwort again, an ox-eye daisy for her patience, chive blossoms for usefulness, violet for her loyalty, devotion and fidelity, lemon blossom for her fidelity in love, white lily for her honour, and apple blossom for better things to come.

She almost felt bad for not making more of an effort to get to know Hannah. If she had known her better, maybe she might have gotten something more than what seemed to be a generalized Hufflepuff bouquet. White heather, chive blossom, apple blossom, lemon blossom, spring crocus for youthful gladness, fern, and sweet woodruff for humility.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Hermione looked at the sheer mass of the flowers in front of her and then at her friends. Luna had presented her with edelweiss for courage and devotion, horehound for health, cat-tail, thyme for courage and strength, anemone for forsaken, a single cherry blossom for education, yellow jasmine and a morning glory... It was an odd bouquet.

Susan gave her Black-Eyed Susan, white heather, hyssop for sacrifice and cleanliness (a neat way to reinforce her mild OCD), baby's breath, heliotrope for eternal love, a red rose for desire, kennedia for intellectual beauty, and sweet woodruff... So, Susan saw her as a smart, OCD beauty in search of true love... Again, essentially true...

Hannah just made her feel bad...

Fern, honey flower for generous affection, a white lily, a tiger lily for wealth, pride, and prosperity, lemon blossom, dahlia, blue hyacinth for constancy, mint for virtue, and a red daisy.

Upon counting the flowers and realizing that there were twenty-five in her bouquet, she quickly dragged the girls to the florist so they each had a multiple of seven. Seven was a magically powerful number and they needed all of the power that magic could spare them for this.

Hermione chose Bird of Paradise for fidelity, bitter-sweet for truth, and rhododendron because it meant 'I am dangerous.' All of them purchased the materials for their wreaths: Holly for hope, myrtle for marriage, oak for strength, bay for glory (Well, Susan bought that one. Hermione opted out. She had had enough 'glory' in her life.), magnolia for nobility and perseverance, olive for peace, and pear for affection. (Luna opted out of the myrtle, as she honestly didn't care if she married. Hannah decided that she wanted neither glory nor nobility. In her own words: 'I came from plain wizarding folk and I intend to stay plain wizarding folk.')

The girls giggled as the shopping trip continued and they stocked up on things like aloe, basil, bitter-sweet, coriander, cumin, yellow daffodils, ox-eyed daisies, dill (which allegedly represented power against evil forces), dragon's blood incense (for inner power, the clerk assured), foxglove, garlic, gilly flower (fidelity in adversity), ginger, hyssop, marjoram, mint, mugwort, oregano (substance), parsley, peppermint, pomegranate flower ('Ya want an elegant one, don't ya?' Considering the rather startling face on this clerk, all three had bought the pomegranate flower and quite a bit of it.) , ragged robin (for wit), rosemary, sage, thyme, and yarrow. As the hour of midnight grew closer, Hermione's nerves began to remind her of all the things that could go wrong.

_What if there isn't anyone for you?_

She asked Luna and the fragile blonde laughed.

"Oh, Hermione, there's someone for everyone. You are someone, aren't you? You didn't come from the Venus place that the book you gave me last year says all women come from, did you?"

Yet again, Hermione regretted giving Luna a copy of _Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus..._ She had spent two weeks asking everyone if they originated from Mars or Venus and how was the weather there... Harry had actually forbidden Hermione to buy the blonde another book... Well, until that copy of the Periodic Table of Sex poster had arrived at his house...

Hermione snickered quietly.

"No, Luna, I'm not Venusian."

"Wonderful, although I do wonder if Nargles are from Venus... Do you think Daddy and Harry would like to go?"

Hannah outright laughed while Hermione assured Luna that neither her father nor Harry would enjoy a trip to Venus.

An owl circled Hermione's head before dropping an arbutus into her hand... _Thee only do I love..._

There was no need to ask who the sender was.

"Ladies, what flower combination can I send a certain soulless ginger that will indicate that the only way I'll be his piece on the side before, during, or after his marriage to the delightful Heiress Greengrass will be if I've died, rotted, and he performed a necromantic ritual to resurrect my brainless corpse?"

"Orange lily, a lotus, monkshood, a pasque flower, a pheasant's eye, an evening primrose, quaking grass, dried white rose, a tall sunflower, candy tuft, yellow carnation, cyclamen, dead leaves, geranium, pink larkspur, marigold, mock orange..." Susan trailed off... "Personally, I'd send the dried white rose. 'Death before loss of virtue.' Maybe accompany it with a broken geranium to symbolize his attempted infidelity?"

"Definitely the dried white rose. Hopefully nothing else will be required."

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell them that this was the seventh day a flower had arrived from Ron. Still, they went together back to the florist and sent Ron a reply consisting of the dried white rose, candy-tuft for indifference, a geranium for stupidity, and an orange lily for strong dislike. Hermione could only hope that this ritual worked and, maybe, that Astoria would catch on to Ron's deceit.

The sun started to sink in the sky as the women went back to Lavender's and she provided Port-keys to the selected ritual locations for each woman. Luna had chosen a spot off of Loch Ness, Hermione preferred a pond in the West Country near where she had grown up, Susan and Hannah went off to a lake near the Ossuary.

Attendants made her ready after she wove the wreath of apple, holly, magnolia, myrtle, oak, olive, and pear. It took a nearly forgotten dexterity that she hadn't used since her vacation to Australia to retrieve her parents in the aftermath of the war... Daisy chains were different, and yet not, from weaving wreaths...

Then, her bouquet was wrapped with a long strand of lace that she had 'collected' from a set of French knickers she didn't particularly like, but was hesitant to get rid of because of her fondness for the design of the lace and her knowledge of the cost of _Maison d'Anubis_ fripperies. That took care of the 'posy' of flowers.

Finally, she went through the herbs and spices she had purchased to make a sachet... In a moment of sheer recklessness, she decided that since she had used that lovely bit of lace, she would use the minute scrap of fabric left to make the sachet. Of course, the irony of using a set of knickers, much less a set of knickers _Ron_ had bought her in a ritual designed to bring her a vision of her true heart's mate...

She bubbled with laughter, disturbing her attendants. (Mentioning, exactly how much had Harry given Luna for this gift certificate that was funding the majority of this little excursion? More importantly, why didn't she get gifts like this? All she ever got from Harry was certificates to Flourish and Blotts, Whiz-Hard Books, or- if he was feeling particularly annoyed with her- Burkes' Books...)

_What a feckless little shite... Aren't we lucky we escaped, even if it did hurt?_ she asked herself as she finished her magic-less tasks and stepped into the provided tent to strip out of her day clothes and into the provided robe so she could walk from the tent to the sunken cauldron (I.e.- hot tub).

"Miss Granger, it is half eleven."

"Thank you," she replied, gracefully moving from the tent and tossing the wreath in the fire even as she sank the posy and the sachet into the waters... She let the waters still under the moonlight and looked at the wild-eyed reflection. Boldly, she stood, stripped out of the robe and sank into the water.

"_Je demande Seigneur Destin et Dame Magique pour me montrer le campagnon de mon vrai cœur... Je demande Seigneur Destin et Dame Magique pour me montrer le campagnon de mon vrai cœur...__" _she whispered as the midnight hour approached and her eyes slipped shut.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

_Buttery leather slipped beneath her fingers as she jerked into the dream._

"_And who is this lovely slip of temptation Lord Destiny plops in front of me like a sacrificial cow?"_

_Insulted, Hermione drew herself up straight and stood- albeit reluctantly because that leather had felt positively delicious in places- to face he who would call her a cow. She stepped away from him, already in a snit. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger and I resent being called a cow! I'll have you know I am a highly powerful witch and helped take down Voldemort!"_

_The man laughed. "Your friend was right to offer sweet woodruff for you. Humility. You didn't just 'help.' You essentially engineered the downfall of a 'Dark Lord' whilst a schoolgirl."_

_She blushed before retorting, "And, if you're Lord Destiny's offering, I was wrong to add yellow daffodil, for you are not chivalrous..."_

_He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up into storm dark eyes. "I assure you, I am chivalrous, affectionate, clean, strong, courageous, witty, elegant... All of those little spices you put in those French knickers your ex-boyfriend offered as a present to get under your skirts. Spices that represent all those little romantic traits you'd never admit to possessing because simply being a woman is too hard for you. Too bad no one offered something signifying 'vindictive, if the mood strikes' for you. Of course, his mistake was being arrogant enough to assume you would just fall on top of him in gratitude... You can afford to buy your own fancy French knickers, can't you, witchling?"_

_Why couldn't she focus on anything but these amazing eyes...?_

"_I am an independently well-to-do witch, if that is what you're inquiring. I would not have an issue with providing you an allowance, should your financial situation be less than my own."_

_He laughed. He threw his head back- black hair... Pretty, long black locks that she couldn't see the end of- and laughed..._

_At her!_

_She slapped him._

_He looked at her, his hand- ooooh, look at those long fingers! Wouldn't they feel just lovely stroking her wrist or rubbing her feet after a presentation before the Wizengamot?- caressing his cheek consideringly. "Passionate, proud, dangerous... I took my eyes off you, witchling. I won't make that mistake again..." He bent down to put himself face to face with her. "Convince me that it's worthwhile to cross the Veil for you, witchling... Why should I go back, even if it _is _Lord Destiny asking it of me?"_

_She felt stunned. "The Veil? We're in the Veil?"_

"_Technically, we're on the other side of the Veil. You, my little witchling, are a very strong, very strange witch with no match on your side of the Realms. I'm your best match on this side and Lord Destiny very much wants me back on your side. I, on the other hand, am quite comfortable in my little hectare of Death's realm, therefore..." Despite the acknowledgement that she was lingering in the Realm of the Dead, his breath felt hot against her lips and she swallowed a whimper at the thought of what else would feel hot..._

"_Convince me, witchling."_

"_I hold the current record for N.E.W.T.s and can provide for a small family, provided you would be willing to wait for said family until I become a Queen's Counsellor..."_

"_Ambitious, smart, reasonable, family-minded... I like. This is not convincing, though."_

_She thought quickly as he sat in a chair she hadn't noticed before and those leather clad legs crossed, stretched out in front of him..._

"_I've already mentioned independently well-to-do, which- when combined with my mention of N.E.W.T.s scores would imply that I am well-educated. I'm young- only thirty, which means I've a good eighty years left in me."_

"_You're a virgin?"_

_She blushed. "Yes." Though not Muggle, it was still something of an issue if a woman was still a virgin at thirty in the Muggle world and she had experienced that misconception when her parents had set her up on blind dates. Including the one disaster with that punk-rock girl…_

_There was nothing wrong with her, dammit! Nothing at all! She just wanted to save her virtue for marriage!_

"_Come here, witchling..."_

_She moved forward to the end of his legs. At his imperious hand gesture, she came closer to where he sat. "Lean down, witchling," he commanded. She leaned forward, head tilting owlishly in curiosity. Curiosity was obliterated when the fingers she had admired a few moments ago reached up, tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck and yanked her down to meet those fascinating lips..._

_This was no Ronald Weasley, wet and incompetent. He kissed like a fine wine, smooth and dry with a distinctly unique taste that fascinated and captivated and-_

_Hermione Granger moaned softly when he nipped her lips._

"_You'll do better not to think of him. Especially if I take Lord Destiny and Lady Magic up on their offer. I am a possessive wizard, witchling, no stripling who will allow you to attract the affections of the unworthy," he whispered against her lips before capturing them again. "Oh, you are a treat... I wonder what you would say if you knew-"_

"_DECIDE NOW," commanded a voice from nowhere and everywhere._

"_I'll return, m'lord Destiny and m'lady Magic. Under our agreed upon conditions, of course."_

_Hermione was shoved away and back to wakefulness before she could ask his name and when he would come to her or where she could find him._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** I am so, so, _so_ sorry that I haven't updated on the aforementioned schedule. My school schedule changed out of the blue and instead of having school all week (which would permit for Monday and Friday updates), I'm now only in classes Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Needless to say, this does not permit for bi-weekly updates so you will only get updates on one of those days until further notice.

**Chapter Three-**

**Hermione awoke** with a gasp on her lips, fear in her heart, curiosity over-riding her common sense, jerking upright in the cauldron...

Her lips still tingled from that absolutely fabulous kiss from her dream lover... Her palm still stung from slapping him... She could still feel his fingers tangled in her hair, his voice dark and promising in her ear...

She shivered in the cool October night air. _Who the hell did he think he was?! How dare he accost me like that?_

_Is it really being accosted if you like it?_ her subconscious queried. It wasn't a helpful query or one she cared to answer at the moment.

The important question was who he was... She mentally went over every wizard she knew of that had passed in the last war... _Sirius Black?_

No... Sirius knew better than to brass her off, considering she was actually more powerful as a teenager than he had been as a trained Auror. He wouldn't have been surprised if she slapped him a good one, having received the treatment before for his forward ways. Additionally, Sirius had called her _'kitten'_, not _'witchling.'_ The final strike for it being the Black Lord was that she had never desired to kiss Sirius and, though she wouldn't admit it under pain of the Cruciatus, she very much wanted to kiss her mystery suitor again.

_Remus Lupin?_

Again, no... She had kissed the werewolf- on a drunken dare from his wife, no less!- and Remus just didn't soak her knickers with a quick snog. Could he have with a little effort, given her mad crush on the man? Probably. But with one snog? No.

_Severus Snape?_

Possible, but she had never thought she struck the former professor and Headmaster as anything other than an annoyance. Given that she had kissed him in the same drunken game of truth-or-dare as Lupin... Well, she wouldn't be completely opposed to the idea of some recreational shagging with Severus Snape, but she didn't think that he was the type to settle down with anyone and live through the next 48 hours without being in Azkaban for murder.

_Dung Fletcher?_

Oh, Merlin, she hoped not... The thought made her throw up a little into her mouth.

Using her Occlumency, she ran through the photos at the War Memorial in the Grand Atrium... Although he physically resembled a few in some vague ways, he wasn't on that monument. As a mental exercise, she also scoured her memory of the Death Eater's Board in the DMLE. Again, no dice.

Still, that didn't rule out the possibility that her true heart's mate was a Death Eater, as not every Death Eater had a photo on the Board.

_Regulus Black?_

She wrinkled her nose slightly. Despite his bravery in the end, he had still initially taken the easy road, which ruled out usual strength and courage. She could foresee herself becoming a harridan to equal or exceed Walburga Black if it were Regulus Black.

_The LeStrange Brothers?_

She frowned slightly at the thought. Although it was Rudolphus who had been proven to be quite mad, leaving Bellatrix to usurp his power as Head of the Family and lead them into Voldemort's service, Rabastan had been proven not quite stable either. Despite the proof that both of them had possessed magical power to spare, she couldn't see either of them 'allowing' her to continue her career and seek silk. Out of the two, Rabastan would be the better option, but she had to cross herself that it wasn't either of them.

_Voldemort himself?_

Discounting the physical modifications of the truly Dark rituals Voldemort had subjected himself to, Harry had told her that Tom Riddle had been quite handsome and radiated power and command. He had been well-educated, travelled the world, had strength and, in a twisted way, courage... He would possess useful knowledge, power and hidden worth... Still, she had used several herbs in the sachet to ward off evil and those with evil intent and she couldn't see Voldemort crossing the Veil for anything less than being able to resume his dream of conquering the world.

Not to mention, what would Harry say if she brought _him_ back simply because she was lonely, tired, and essentially wanted to get shagged- vigorously and often, please?

Hermione stood from the cauldron and let the water slue off of her before she grabbed the robe beside the cauldron and slipped it on. She stalked angrily towards the tent, already evaluating and discarding options.

_Uncle Sibeal... He'll know where to get his hands on something that isn't required to be checked in by Customs. No one will expect a witch to use a handgun... of course, with the boys in Boston, it'll be even easier._

Hermione had struggled for a long time to make sure no one knew that her mother's brother-in-law was a Catholic priest, widowed naturally, and that his sister was the mother of two very prolific... Well, that didn't really bear mentioning except that her 'cousins' would be quite capable of sending her a handgun or two that the bobbies needn't know about. Now, though, she needed Uncle Sibeal and Aunt Annabelle. Okay, so she needed Aunt Annabelle's sons, same difference.

She let the scalding water of a cleansing shower pink her skin as she contemplated the rest of her life alone. She would never submit to a Death Eater and, in a flash of precognition, saw the headline of _The Daily Prophet_ when she died...

_Gryffindor's Vestal Virgin... Returned to Sender Unopened!_

Tears ran down her cheeks, blending effortlessly with the almost boiling water until even she was unsure where the shower ended and the tears began. An attendant- she had forgotten the two women's names- entered the tent, holding a missive in her hands.

"Miss Granger? Aurors Bones and Potter request your presence in your office, post haste."

Even as she spoke, Hermione's wand snapped from it's holster to her palm, a drying spell on her lips. When she went to summon her clothes, the young women shook their heads and opened a wardrobe she hadn't noticed before. Her clothes, she noticed, failed to respond to the summoning charm.

"Miss Lavender requested that we have a selection of clothes for you, should the ritual prove successful. Of course, the clothes are still your's and we are sorry for your loss, ma'am," explained one of the girls.

_Of course... They think because he hasn't Apparated in, he must be dead... Well, he is dead, temporarily, if I understood correctly..._

Confused, she didn't bother to correct the assumptions of the attendants. Technically, they were correct, after all.

She almost purred like a kneazle as silk stockings were slid up her legs and she efficiently snapped the garters in place. Some confection of silk, lace, and padding that masqueraded itself as a bra was slid up her arms and fastened. A lovely red button up was offered and rejected when she chose the black skirt-suit with its divine crème-coloured blouse. Delicately strapped heels were treated to cushioning and stability charms prior to being permitted to adorn her feet. She had enough sense to know what the red sole of the shoe meant.

As the selected wardrobe- definitely Lavender-inspired due to the abundance of silk and lace and decadent cuts- was shrunk and boxed, Hermione slipped each girl ten Galleons. One tried to protest and she smiled.

"You and your friend have provided a comfortable environment and evening. If you cannot accept the money as a gratuity, then accept it as a loan that has no repayment date, interest, or terms. In fact, if you take it as a loan, I'll simply have to have Harry _obliviate_ the 'loan' from my mind."

The girls laughed and handed Hermione a small, elegant handbag with all of her belongings held within. She briefly wondered when and how Lavender- always a mediocre witch in Hermione's opinion- had mastered permanent Expansion Charms... It didn't really matter, but it was nice to see her handiwork used.

She strolled out of the tent and effortlessly Apparated mid-stride, a casual and effective display of power. As she reappeared on her floor of the Ministry, she was finishing her stride, mindlessly grabbing a mild Pepper Up potion from the cupboard by the Apparition point. Midnight summonses, while not the norm, were not uncommon and the DMLE strove to provide their legal team with the best provisions possible. (This version of the Pepper Up was much like the paediatric dose used to treat a mild cold. It also substituted as a potent dose of caffeine to start the synapses firing while coffee and tea were brewed...)

Luna was sitting in Harry's lap and his hair was messier than the norm. Hermione stood in her doorway, ignored in favour of slow, lingering kisses that she desperately envied. She almost felt like a voyeur, watching the duo in her office as Marie snapped her fan open and hid her blushing face.

"_Ils s'embrassent comme le jeune amant doit, ma chere Hermione.__"_

"You're embarrassing them, Marie."

Luna piped up, "Not really. She might learn something."

The portrait laughed melodically. "Oh, not hardly, _ma petite_. France was... Mmmm, France was such a decadent and sexually liberated place in my lifetime."

"Periodic Table of Sex," Luna countered...

"What is a periodic table of sex?"

Harry grinned at Hermione's embarrassed groan of misery. He was completely unsympathetic.

"If you've any friends in Grimmauld Place, I'll show it to you, Madame Duchess."

"Is that irritating reprobate, Phineas Nigellus, in residence?"

Harry frowned. "Unfortunately."

Marie disappeared and Luna said after her, "His portrait is in the study and the periodic table is in our bedroom. There's a lovely floral tableau in our bedroom if you'd like to give him a garden tour."

Luna then turned to Hermione and smiled brightly. "Draco came by and snatched Susan up. Quite romantic. He grabbed her arm and proceeded to drag her away to the Apparition point, mid-snog. I do hope the wrackspurts don't make them splinch. St. Mungo's doesn't regard snogging related splinching as very important..."

Harry had the grace to blush while Hermione just stared... She had not known one could snog and Apparate. Then again, how did _Luna_ know that St. Mungo's didn't regard 'snogging related splinching' highly? "So... er... You called me in, Harry?"

He and Luna grinned. "We.. uh... we need a handfasting contract, otherwise you'll be having a niece or nephew born out of wedlock and you know how the wizarding world views kids out of wedlock."

She nodded slightly. "Are you sure, Harry?"

He nodded happily as Luna chirped, "Harry insists that we're 'legal.'"

Hermione started the paperwork, ignoring the almost itchy need to go down to the Department of Mysteries. She could hear the wicked siren's song of the Veil Room. She _needed_ to go down there... _He was waiting for her!_

She couldn't do it... She couldn't be responsible for bringing forth a murdering, raping, irredeemable Death Eater. She couldn't bear the thought of the look in Harry's eyes as they tried to further Voldemort's mission... How many people would suffer for her desire to no longer be lonely?

She would not be responsible for more death in a society only just now recovering financially and population-wise. She would not increase the population of children at the already stretched thin orphanage. She would not have to hide her face when confronted by a rape victim... She was strong and she would not succumb to this compulsion, no matter how strong it grew.

She slugged her way through the handfasting paperwork for her friends, hands trembling and struggling to keep the quill to the parchment when all she wanted was to go to him. She didn't know what Lord Destiny and Lady Magic had wrought for her, but he was suddenly so important to her...

And she didn't even know his name.

He would hate her, _the_ Muggleborn, Undesirable No. 2, the Honourable Miss Hermione Jean Granger, possessor of the Order of Merlin, First Class. There was no chance of happiness for her on the route that They seemed to want her to take, therefore she would act with Free Will and thwart them.

The pain increased, battering her Occlumency shields and making each breath an exercise in torture. She had known that thwarting Lord Destiny and Lady Magic was easier said than done, but she hadn't expected the pain...

Finally, a little after three a.m., she found herself standing and racing to the Department of Mysteries. She could hear Harry and Luna, startled but alert, running after her, his badge flashing when anyone else would have been stopped and Luna's wand providing a light for her path.

An Unspeakable met her halfway down and rolled their eyes. "It's about time, Miss Granger."

"A-a-about time?" she panted from pain.

"You've resisted the Calling too long. This night will not end pleasantly nor easily for you," the Unspeakable offered. "You cannot endanger yourself in such a fashion again. We do not have time to properly prepare or advise you..."

She determined that the Unspeakable was male simply by the breadth of his hands and the calluses that gave them character. It took her a moment to remember where she had felt these hands before and she looked up at the cowl hiding the Unspeakable's identity. "Endanger myself? I'm trying to protect everyone. The needs of the many..."

"Need you to answer the Calling, Miss Granger," he offered. "It is not just anyone who receives a Calling, much less one on Samhain."

_Marcus Flint..._

He was not the one Calling her, but she could feel the pain easing as they neared the Veil Room.

"Because of your stubbornness, we do not have much time to prepare you. We do not know who is Calling you, Miss Granger, but it is essential that he come through," Marcus offered as they sprinted. "No one will be permitted into the Veil Room with you. Every Calling is different and you're the first to resist it this long. I think that it is only because the witching hour is upon us that your resolve broke. You should be proud."

"Thank you, Marcus," she whispered. He flinched and she smiled. Before he could _obliviate_ the knowledge of his identity from her, she crossed the threshold of the Veil Room and gave him a finger-wave... He looked rather put out with her.

She stopped just on this side of the threshold, pondering the enormity of what was about to occur... She was being given a potential spouse, courtesy of Lord Destiny... A heart's mate that was, quite possibly, an enemy of everything she stood for and had helped build...

The Veil sang to her, sweet whispers of power and madness, adoration and destruction... It seemed to bubble and flow in an eternal non-breeze... _Come to me, my child... The price will not be so great..._

_Witchling, NO!_

She jerked at the sound of his voice in her head and realized that she had been drawn closer to the Veil and had almost touched the curtain that separated the Realms... _Instant death_, she remembered, the sight of Sirius falling before it haunting her. She took a large step back, circling the Veil from a safe distance as the whispers resumed.

_You can have him, but you must come through me... your desires answered..._

It took her a moment to mentally unravel the compulsion surrounding the Veil and she smiled. "Lady Death, you may hold dominion here, but there are greater works at hand," she stated loudly.

A thin, pale woman, Luna's size, yet dark where she was blonde, appeared, gliding through the Veil. "My brother meddles in my realm."

"Destiny is a complex thing that even Death must acknowledge and bow before."

"Yes, even I bow before my brother when he demands actions taken."

Hermione smiled at the dark twin of Luna. "You remind me of a friend, Lady Death."

They both looked up the stairs and saw Luna hanging onto Harry, her eyes wide with concern. Hermione surmised that they must be able to hear what she was saying, though she could not hear them. Idly, she wondered if Lady Death was what the emo-goth daughter of Harry and Luna would look like...

Lady Death laughed. "Miss Lovegood is a delightful creature and I have no business with her or hers for a very long time... Though her bonded and I will need to talk about the return of some items I was conned out of a few centuries ago. So long as he uses them with honour and respect, I'll wait to collect them, though."

Hermione blinked and stared. The knowledge that Harry had items that Lady Death wanted returned... "My gods... The-"

"Yes," Lady Death confirmed, cutting her off. "You would do well to forget that, though, Miss Granger..."

_Forget_ that her _best friend_ was in possession of the most sought after magical artefacts of all time? If only it were that simple!

"It could be that simple, Miss Granger..." Death offered. "Though you do not covet them, far too many would, even a certain friend who is no longer a friend."

Hermione bared her teeth instinctively at the thought of Ron bringing Harry harm.

"Little lioness... You'll do well with the one Destiny has selected for you," Death murmured. "You have three options, though, and I must present them."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: ** Some of Salazar's interactions with Hermione are based on Alucard from 'Hellsing Ultimate Abridged' with full recognition being given to TeamFourStar for their excellent series. Got to respect a BAMF! (I can't fuckin' wait until Hallowe'en.)

**Chapter Four-**

**Hermione stared **at the petite personification of Death. "Options, my lady?"

"Yes, options. Free will and all that jumble. Not that I particularly care. I get everyone in the end."

Hermione nodded slightly. That actually made a bit of sense.

"Your first option is to answer the Calling and give me a good reason to recant my hold over a soul. In choosing this option, you acknowledge that you must consummate the Calling within six hours and you will have a year to convince me to make this a permanent arrangement… Or not, as you prefer."

Hermione blanched slightly at the words _'consummate the Calling.'_ She had intended to remain a virgin until she was married. Yet, in order to have her true heart's mate, she would have to gift him the only thing that was truly her's long before she was ready.

"Your second option is to deny the Calling and return to your former existence. Be aware that if you choose this option, you will not be able to perform the little rite that you and your friends did again. It's a one-time deal for you. Of course, in refusing, you might just anger Destiny enough that he causes a schism in reality. Last time that happened, we had to call Conclave and sink Atlantis to prevent the utter destruction of the time-space continuum."

The hammer blows kept coming... Refusal was no longer an option.

"The third option might be more palatable for you... You can petition that the Calling be.. accompanied, for lack of a better word, by a soul that you know and trust... For example, if young Mr. Potter were answering this Calling, he might request Mr. Lupin or Lord Black. If you choose this option, the two souls will be kept here for a year while you try to convince me that leaving either, both, or neither in this Realm is a good idea. The only exception is those who have died at the end of their Destined weave. Also, this does not negate the consummation requirement. Six hours is all you'll get there."

Hermione cursed a blue streak in her head. That ruled out her grandmother, who had passed at the ripe age of eighty-six in her sleep some two years back. Her head raced through options...

"Say I were to choose Mr. Remus Lupin in the third scenario. Would he return as a werewolf?"

"He would return to this Realm as though no time had passed in his life. His condition would not change."

_Scratch him. He's probably happier in whatever his reward is, anyway..._

"Albus Dumbledore?"

"Lived out his Destined weave."

_Doesn't help me, but should help Harry with some of his guilt about that night._ Indeed, when she looked up, Harry's face streamed tears at the thought that there really hadn't been anything he could do to save the beloved Headmaster. Destiny had spoken and thus it was. She could see him mouth, _'Thank you.'_ to her and she smiled sadly.

"Can I know who has Called me?"

"Where is your faith, Miss Granger?" Death challenged playfully.

"Very well. I petition Lady Death, Lord Destiny, and Lady Magic for the conditions set forth in the third presented option. I would ask for Lord Sirius Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to be sent forth as Chosen Chaperone and my Champion," she stated, her voice ringing strongly through the circular chamber. "I accept the responsibility under the Calling and am not strong enough to face this alone, so I request a Champion and Chaperone to ensure I am not lead astray from my Destined purpose!"

Lady Death's 'perky Goth' appearance faded, revealing a tall, faceless, sexless robed and cowled form that turned away to consult with two other similarly garbed individuals. Hermione couldn't hear anything despite the acoustics of the Chamber of Death... She was anxious and questioning her decision already. One kiss was not enough to determine compatibility and she wasn't even sure now that it had been a really good kiss... And she had only six hours to bind herself to him with the blood of her maidenhead...

_Oh, Gods... What have I done?_

Two more forms, presumably that of Sirius and the one who Called her, came forth from the Veil to join the conferencing... er, what were they, exactly? 'Deities' wasn't quite the right word, but it was the best she could come up with, considering her heart was racing and she felt nauseated with nerves. Perhaps 'Anthropomorphic personifications of aspects' was more correct…?

Harry and Luna had been permitted across the threshold, as had the Minister of Magic and his guard. Harry was trembling and Luna was... well, Luna. She walked straight up to the conversing forms and said, "You know you're going to agree and she's about to be sick with worry. Can we hurry this up? I'd like to finish my handfasting paperwork in order to go home and shag the brains out of my husband."

Multiple jaws hit the floor at her candour, though none of those that really knew her should have been surprised. Lady Death resumed her petite form and smiled at her blonde doppelgänger. "It is too bad you are claimed by my brother, Dream. I should enjoy my job more if my Realm were inhabited with more like you."

Luna hugged Lady Death like a dear friend. "Would you tell my mother that I am well and happy now?"

Lady Death looked at the floor and sighed, "Oh, what the hell. It's Samhain. Celeste! Lily! James!" she called to the Veil.

As parents and their children babbled to each other in excited, incomprehensible tones, Death turned to Hermione. "As you might have surmised, your petition has been granted and Sirius Black has agreed to return as your Champion on the condition that he not be required to live in Grimmauld Place for the duration of his stay in this Realm. Temporary housing is fine, but not for the entirety."

"I have a spare room in my flat that I can re-purpose for his use."

"Your suitor has requested that he be permitted to introduce himself, Miss Granger and We saw no reason to deny him."

The cloaked figures of Sirius and the one who Called her approached at Lady Death's signal and Harry wrapped his arms around his godfather. The cowl of the shroud on the second individual dropped and Hermione almost sighed in relief. This was no Death Eater that she recognized, and she knew more than a few.

"My name, my lady, is Salazar Slytherin."

"Well, fuck all kinds of duck," Hermione whimpered a mere moment before fainting.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

**It was slightly** disturbing to awaken to murmurs of, _"But why would she wish to copulate with multiple specimens from the subfamilies of the _Anatidae_ family? Rather kinky, really,"_ said in dulcet whispers of concern. It took her memory a moment to 'reboot' as it were and bring her back up to date.

"_My name, my lady, is Salazar Slytherin."_

"You know, I'm more concerned with who invented these chocolate-covered peanut butter pumpkin-shaped confections," she heard Lady Death intone. There was a small moan. "These are fuckin' amazing."

_Death is a chocoholic? What's next? Destiny likes Mars Bars and Lady Magic is diabetic?_ Hermione thought, mildly hysterical laughter bubbling up.

"Ah, good. Now that you've decided to rejoin us, Hermione, I'll officially notify you that your six-hour countdown has started as of..." There was a lengthy pause as Death waited on the minute to finish up. "Yes, as of exactly three seconds ago. Sal, Miss Granger. Hermione, Salazar Slytherin. Have fun. See you in a year."

Lady Death, Lord Destiny, Lady Magic, James and Lily Potter, and Celeste Lovegood all walked back into the Veil and Hermione looked up at her Calling. Salazar bleeding Slytherin, King of the Dark Wizards, Prophet of the Pureblood Propaganda Machine, Lord of the Pureblood Supremacy Movement...

_Gods above and Daemons below, but he is beautiful..._ she mused. _And he can kiss like a bloody miracle._

He was looking down at her and offered her his hand in an almost practised movement. "My lady, you might wish to rise from the floor. Your French knickers are showing."

Sirius burst into laughter. "I like him already... Maybe the whole 'Slytherins are evil' thing was a bit exaggerated. Anyone who can make Kitten blush that red and not get slapped must be a good guy."

"Sirius, kindly bugger yourself..."

Salazar, though, took a different route, eyeing the Black lord with disdain and contempt. "And who are you to address my lady so familiarly?"

Before Sirius could get a word in, Hermione stood toe-to-toe with the dark haired Founder. "That is my best friend's godfather, my friend, and my Chaperone, Lord Slytherin. He is my Champion until you prove yourself worth of my trust."

"He lets a woman fight his battles? Is this the world I've stepped into?"

"_Oh merciful mother of Merlin,"_ she heard Harry whisper... _"Does the Ministry have catastrophic loss insurance?"_

"I may be a woman, but I out-power him any day of the week and twice on Sundays! I rank as a High Archmagus. My name is Hermione Jean Granger and I command your respect!" she snapped in a tone more often used on idiotic underlings at the Ministry.

"No, witchling, you demand my attention, and if you don't act like a lady, I'll take you over my knee!" Salazar retorted.

Hermione's nose wrinkled as she sneered at the Founder. "You don't have the raw power to do it! And even if you did, you're a millennium out of date on your spell work!" she challenged.

He leaned down and, before she knew it, his hand was wrapped in her hair and he tugged hard, yanking her head back so she looked him in the eye. "I don't need spell work when you are so easily beguiled, witchling," he whispered.

She smiled and brought her knee up to his crotch and her hand jabbed into his throat warningly. "And I don't need spell work when you are so easily out-maneuvered." She sniffed at him and watched him at her feet. "Now, do you care to behave, or should I embarrass you?"

"You don't consider being at a woman's feet embarrassing enough?" he coughed.

"No. Embarrassing would be me hanging you from the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts in your birthday suit after magicking your skin purple with green polka dots and hanging a sign about your bits that reads, _'I took on Hermione Granger and lost. Ask me how!'_"

Harry snickered and murmured, "Now why didn't I ever think to make that into a t-shirt? _'I took on Voldemort and won. Ask me how!'_ Naaaaah.. Doesn't have the same ring to it."

"Look, Slytherin, stop while you might- _just might-_ be ahead," Sirius advised as Hermione went over to hug Luna. "I don't know how they rated witches and power when you were around, but High Archmagus is pretty high fuckin' up there. Allegedly, Merlin rated Enchanter, which is only two steps up. She out-powers me and I have to be okay with it. Better than ending up the target of her ire. For fuck's sake, man!"

"It gets worse?"

"Look, I only brassed her off _once_ in my life and I'm not looking too damned forward to when I inevitably do it again. She decided that she was going to have my Animagus form neutered."

"What is neutering?"

"I had the Grim gelded," Hermione chimed. "Then, I looked up reattachment spells, such as those used in splinching cases and reattached the clipped off parts."

Harry, like most of the men in the room, choked and shuddered. 'Gelded' was a term the Founder knew and he looked awed.

"Oh, witchling, you are a treat."

"Flattery gets you nowhere, Lord Slytherin."

"Shall we retire somewhere to get acquainted, Miss Granger? I would swear on my life, honour, and magic that you will be safe and unharmed."

"Witnessed!" rang through the Death Chamber.

Hermione took his hand and was spirited away.


	5. Author's Note! Urgent!

**Dear Readers-**

** Unfortunately, when I began this story, I had five chapters pre-typed and thought I had enough time to get the next ten or so chapters straightened out.**

** That was before some wanker stole my flash drive which held 'True Heart's Mate' and, prior to being forced to return the drive, deleted everything.**

** I beg your indulgence while I take a few weeks to remember exactly what the hell I did with Hermione and Salazar.**

** Sincerely,**

** LoEx**


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